WFS
by Mister Don Johnny Cadet Sir
Summary: Three little letters.


"Hello, my name is Zoruru. Please excuse any future comments that may come off as rude or cruel, because they are purely intentional... Why, yes, half of my body has indeed been ripped off and replaced with cybernetic material that may prove to be fatal if you touched it... ma'am, please stop screaming. You are attracting a crowd."

"Scraps. What are you doing."

Zoruru cast a dry side glance to the tadpole that entered the room, who had an unamused look in his eye from hearing him verbally describe odd one-sided conversations. Typically he wouldn't have cared, but it was so uninterestingly strange and comical that he couldn't help but ask.

"I'm mentally preparing myself for what is to come," the cyborg replied crisply.

Tororo rolled his eyes. "You're thinking about this too much. You'll be fine."

"What I don't understand is why I specifically have to undergo this mission," Zoruru replied with a low growl. "I'm an assassin, not a bodyguard. I kill. Keeping someone alive is the exact opposite of what I have been trained to do. Whose stupid idea was it to grant me this objective?"

"It was mine, Lance Corporal."

Tororo and Zoruru jumped slightly, turning to the purple Keronian who stood by the door of the room set for training, his hands tucked loosely in his arms.

"...Lieutenant," Zoruru said, choosing his words carefully, "I apologize if I have... insulted you in regards to the choices that you've made. However, I request to know the reason to why I have been selected to be put in this... unusual position."

"Request granted," Garuru replied, perking a brow almost amusedly. "The reason why I have chosen you, Lance Corporal, is because I believe you would technically be the most qualified given the situation." He pulled out a device that was hidden in his hands and pressed the button that bulged in the middle of it, sending up a small beam that expanded to a green, holographic grid. "As you already know, our most recent and active mission is to catch a convicted felon guilty of murder. After speaking with the young woman regarding her witnessing his latest, and unfortunately successful attack, we have identified the murderer to be Rosusu." A single _beep_ provided the imagery of a scarred Keronian face, his eyes boxed and slanted, his pupils shrunken with absolute malice and apathy.

Zoruru recognized him immediately. "He's an assassin."

"And on Keron's Most Wanted list," Garuru added solemnly. "There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that the young woman will be targeted next." The holograph contracted back into his device. "I believe that you, as an assassin yourself, would be able to recognize the dangers and thus be more effective in protecting her than a simple bodyguard would. You know as well as I do that assassins concentrate solely on stealth and skill; with your experience, she would be able to at least avoid the pitfalls that most victims often fall into."

"An assassin never kills without a distinct reason," the cyborg told the Lieutenant, his voice cold. "If the objective is already completed, there is no benefit in coming back and taking care of the girl-"

"Not even for revenge, Lance Corporal?"

Garuru let the words hang in the air, almost daring Zoruru to contradict this statement.

The latter gave in, reluctant and slightly annoyed. "...Point proven. However. I feel that my experience in the field would prove to be more beneficial."

"I prefer you stay with the girl, Zoruru."

The cybernetic Keronian stared at Garuru in mild bewilderment. The Lieutenant never referred to his subordinates by their names- always by title, by rank. He let out a breath, glancing at Tororo, who looked just as surprised as he did.

"...Understood."

"She will arrive at the central airport in the planet of Gemora," Garuru continued on, his shoulders relaxing. "You will meet her there, where both of you will remain in hiding in one of the nearby towns. It is strongly suggested you two remain as inconspicuous as possible. Try not to attract too much attention to yourselves."

Tororo snorted, and Zoruru resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"This is possible," Garuru said strictly, turning to give a slight glare to Tororo for his outburst. "Gemora is well known for inhabiting many a different species of aliens around the galaxy. You will blend in fine there- no one will suspect anything different from you, unless you willingly call too much attention to yourselves." He gazed down at the metallic box in his hand. "Meanwhile, we will try to locate Rosusu before he can find you. We won't contact you unless we uncover bits of information necessary for you to know, or if we catch and hold him under strict supervision. Occasionally we will watch for you as well, to ensure the safety of the young woman. She's counting on you, Lance Corporal. Protect her with your life."

* * *

There were a few cautious glances toward the hooded stranger that sat on the bench nearby. It was very strange. While most everyone was sitting close together in an attempt to get a spot on the bench, there were empty seats right beside him.

Nobody wanted to sit next to him.

Zoruru scoffed in annoyance. Typical. He bowed his head a little lower, letting the shadows under the hood obscure his face. He knew it was too difficult to do so anyway; the metal caught the light, winking it toward passersby who gazed at him quizzically, wondering why he had such a strange mask on.

If only they knew.

In his hands was a small sign that read "ASH", a word that would only be distinguishable to the bodyguard and the victim he had to look after.

A Pekoponian flower with meaning. "With me, you are safe."

Feh.

This had been the second hour. How annoying.

_Just what is taking this girl so long?_ he thought impatiently, tapping his fingers moodily over the stiff board.

He wondered if Rosusu knew about everything all along, and was on the plane with her. Standing behind her as the woman, probably traumatized, grasped onto the sides of her seat, eagerly awaiting to arrive at the supposed safe haven, unknowingly leaning back as the predator silently loomed over her and aimed for her throat...

Zoruru would have failed without even starting.

He rolled his shoulders, hearing his organic one crack and his other one whirl. That certainly wasn't _improbable._ The assassin was certainly capable of achieving such a feat, correct?

Still...

"Excuse me? ...Oh."

_Here we go._

Zoruru looked up and slightly cocked his hood out of the way to see. His face was unable to fully express the look of sheer shock that he honestly felt.

"I know you," he said slowly.

"Yes," the woman replied. She had green eyes; her smile was forced. A briefcase had been put down next to her leg, thick and heavy-looking, a sticky-note stuck against the bag. She sighed and sat beside Zoruru, who inched to the right in discomfort. "You do. I'll take it you are my bodyguard."

"Only for a small period of time," the cyborg muttered in assurance. "My platoon is responsible for catching the killer. I only apologize that you have the displeasure of having me protect you."

"Trust me, it's a pleasure I think I can live with," she said with a thin, weak chuckle. She gazed at him, and he stared at her for any moments of weakness- a flinch, a glint of fear, a judging frown.

There was none of the sort.

"I'm Meruru," she said, holding out her hand. "I'm your mailfrog. Or, your most common one, I should say."

Garuru never mentioned her being familiar with any of them. It was probably an unimportant detail at the time.

"Lance Corporal Zoruru." He didn't take his hand out from under his cape.

"Yes." She pulled her hand back in. "The one who never gets any mail."

The cyborg gave her a testy glance before standing up. _That's_ what she remembers him for? "I called a cab. It'll take us to the dorm that will house us until further notice."

"Sounds great," Meruru murmured. She yawned and rubbed her eyes.

Zoruru pointed at the briefcase. "Do you need help carrying that?"

"Hm? Oh, no, I got it. I'm used to carrying around heavy things."

"Very well then," he replied, leaving it at that. His eyes caught on the sticky note- scrawled in clumsy handwriting were the curious initials "W.F.S." He frowned, but didn't mention it. "Follow me. The cab is outside."

Meruru quietly lifted her case off the ground and did as she was told, shuffling exhaustedly past the crowds of similarly tired people in the airport. Well, at least she blended in.

Zoruru felt more light glint off his metal, and he scowled to himself.

Unlike others.

It didn't seem, however, anyone noticed him- perhaps his ability to somehow disappear in the background had something to do about it. Whatever the case, he didn't want to be in the public- he just wanted to leave and stay away from everyone.

The cab was there in the corner, the driver sitting in his seat with his own window open.

"'Bout time you got here," he muttered, scuffing the cigar butt before tossing it out the window. He was a Maltesian, an alien race that was known for their ability to consume and breathe out fire. To a Pekoponian, he appeared crocodile-like, with sharp yellow eyes that could roll in 360 degree angles. It was more than a little uncomfortable when you tried to avoid eye contact with him.

"Sorry, bad weather from my side," Meruru murmured. "The plane needed to stall..." Zoruru opened the door and let her in first, to which she slid to the middle. When he slid in beside her, she didn't continue to move to the other side. She stayed put.

Before Zoruru could comment on this, the cab driver asked, "Yous familiar with this area?"

"Yes," Zoruru slammed the door shut. "I am."

An eye rolled to look back at the cyborg, but the Lance Corporal looked down, letting the hood envelope his face. It didn't work.

"A little early for Halloween masks, aren't we?" the crocodile-like alien snickered, pulling out of his spot.

"I don't know what that is."

Meruru gazed sympathetically to Zoruru but didn't say anything about the matter. Instead, she decided to change the subject. "Do you suggest any restaurants that are nearby? Maybe anything that delivers? I think I want to eat as soon as I get settled down."

"Maybe your boyfriend could suggest somewhere to you; take you out on a date," the Maltesian said in idle response. "After all, he knows the area."

"He's not my boyfriend," Meruru insisted, feeling Zoruru tense right next to her. "He's my..." She glanced at him from the side. "...My friend."

The look on the croc's face made it appear like he knew better than both of them. "Gotcha."

* * *

The apartment was small and disenchanting. The original color of the paint was indistinguishable, and it was peeling, revealing the dirty bricks underneath. The steps leading up to it were made out of wood, wobbling with each and every footstep they took. Both of the Keronians carefully trekked up without a single word, their eyes flitting toward the abode that was unfitting to call a dorm, much less a home.

Zoruru eventually noticed the difficulty the mailfrog had as she tried to reach the top with her suitcase, so he just rolled his eyes and took it from her. She didn't protest.

The keys jingled and clanged against each other as Zoruru pulled them out, inserting it in the keyhole and having to wiggle the doorknob to get the dang thing to open.

It did, creaking loudly and expelling years worth of dust in their faces. Meruru materialized a napkin and cleaned herself, almost unsurprised, and Zoruru grunted in annoyance before trudging in.

The small rooms that dominated as their own were old and dirty. It was more than obvious that it hadn't housed any residents for a while.

The living room provided a window with dark, translucent curtains that hung limply over uncleaned glass, a coffee table with three legs, a stained pea green sofa, and ripped carpet. The kitchen wasn't disgusting, per-se, but they guessed that they were going to need to toss out all the food that were hidden in the dark corners of the cupboard and the fridge. They only had one bedroom with a single queen-sized bed, obviously meant for a couple, and a nicked chestnut-like dresser. If anything, the only one seemingly redeeming feature about the apartment was that it had its own balcony. Of course, it needed a good broom, but it appeared as if it would be a nice view.

Meruru had mentioned that it would probably a beautiful way to look at the stars. Zoruru said nothing again, biting back any comment regarding the loving relationships between balconies and assassins.

No detail shall be provided about said bathroom. It was going to be locked up and they were never going to open it again.

"Well, it isn't so bad," Meruru said honestly in a voice that could easily be interpreted as "I've seen worse."

The assassin almost admitted otherwise.

"So, where?" Meruru asked, sighing as she landed on the small, dusty sofa in the living room.

Zoruru closed and then locked the door, pulling the hooded cape off his body. "Where what?"

"Where would you like to eat?"

"I don't know." The cyborg balled up the cloth and tossed it to the side. "I've never been here before."

Meruru blinked at him, surprised. "Then... why did you tell the cab driver that you have?"

"That's their way of detecting tourists," Zoruru said offhandedly. "If you don't know the area too well, they'll drive you to longer routes to extend their time- increasing the amount you'll have to pay them at the end. You wouldn't have noticed."

"Ah. I've never thought about it like that before." Meruru stared at him for a moment, and then shrugged. "Oh, well. Do we have like a map or something we can look at? I'm really hungry."

"I found a phone." Zoruru held it up awkwardly, examined it, and then gave it to the pink Keronian. "You do it."

After speaking to an operator about restaurants that deliver and then placing an order at a pizza place, she put the phone down and groaned, leaning against the arms of the chair.

"The bed's over there," Zoruru gestured.

"Yeah, I know." She didn't move.

The two stood there in strained silence, uncomfortable.

"Did they already inform you about laying low?" Zoruru asked her, slowly.

"Yes."

"You won't be able to speak to anyone familiar or tell them where you are."

"No need to worry about that. I'm all alone anyway."

Zoruru watched her. It didn't sound overdramatic or gloomy. It didn't even sound like bait for conversation. It was almost as average as assuring someone about a lost keychain; "No need to worry about it. I have a spare anyway."

I'm all alone anyway.

Zoruru cleared his throat but didn't allow himself to get reeled in, even if it wasn't intended for that purpose. He didn't like getting familiar with anyone. He knew more than anyone how delicate life was- it only took a moment to end it.

His job was to protect her, and nothing more.

As if remembering something, Meruru climbed off her spot from the sofa and walked over to her briefcase. Zoruru assumed that she was going to unpack, but all she did was open it up, pick out a stack of sticky notes and a marker, and began to scribble on it.

Bored, Zoruru left her to walk over to the windows and draw the thin curtains closed. It was still fairly bright outside, so it didn't make much of a difference regarding the light in the room. All it did was make the shadows around them disappear. He searched for a lamp next; it should get dark in a few hours.

Meruru stuck the note on the tiny, dingy fridge. "Did they tell you how long I would have to be in hiding?"

"No," Zoruru replied flatly. "Though my team is working hard on it."

Meruru nodded faintly, leaving to go to the bedroom.

The Lance Corporal peeked at the fridge- "W.F.S." A small heart had been drawn below the initials in seemingly halfhearted enthusiasm. He peeled it off and took it over to her briefcase, where she had scrawled the same exact message.

What was it, a code of some sort?

He stuck it back on its place at the fridge before following Meruru in the bedroom.

She had another note on the mirror that sat on the dresser. There were only three letters on it, but he already knew what it said before paying too much attention to it.

"There's only one bed," Meruru observed, gesturing to it behind her as she popped the lid back on the marker.

"I know," Zoruru replied coolly. "I don't need a bed."

"Are you going to sleep on the sofa, then?" There was a slight strain in her voice.

"Perhaps I should be more specific. I don't sleep like you." He pointed to the ceiling. "Are you familiar with the way a Pekoponian bat sleeps?"

Meruru thought about this for a moment before nodding slowly.

"There you go."

She looked at him in complete understanding and acceptance before twisting back around and writing yet another note on a sticky. By the way her hands moved, he could easily tell that she was only writing three letters.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Zoruru finally asked, successfully masking his curiosity with annoyance.

"It helps me."

"Helps you with what?"

Meruru smiled at him mysteriously, but chose not to answer.

A knock came at the door. She twitched hesitantly in a start to go get it but Zoruru held his hand out to her defensively. "Let me."

It was the pizza guy- some sort of blue skinned iguana or something.

After covering up himself again and pulling out the remaining change from the taxi fare, he opened the door.

"I'm surprised people still live in this dump," the iguana commented as Zoruru exchanged the money for the food. "I thought it was supposed to be demolished months ago."

Zoruru just slammed the door in his face.

Meruru blinked at him, amused. "He was only trying to be friendly."

"Being friendly can cost you your life," he said seriously. He thrust the box to her. "Here. I'm going to go find a lamp."

"You're not hungry?"

"I don't eat."

She rose her brows at this. "Really. Do you run on electricity or something?"

"More or less. I just choose not to eat that much."

"I see." She opened up the box and let him be, pulling out a slice and trying to keep the cheese from dripping onto the floor.

Zoruru ended up finding a lamp under the sink. He plugged it on the living room, the dim light forming soft shadows around them. The shade was a little dusty, but the lamp was in pretty good condition regardless. It might have been one of the only nice things left in the apartment.

"Are you sure you don't want some?" Meruru asked again. She sat comfortably on the couch, the box laid on her lap. "I don't want to eat all of it myself, and I'm afraid of leaving it in the fridge. It might not be good enough to last tomorrow. Ow. Ow!" She placed the box on the arm of the couch, rubbing her slightly burned skin from where she had the pizza originally.

"I'm sure the pizza will be fine."

"How do you know?" Meruru patted the cushion next to her. "Come on, Zoruru. Let's have lunch together."

"I'm not interested."

"Have you ever even tried pizza before?"

"_Of course_ I've had pizza before," Zoruru retorted. "I work with two kids who can't get enough of the stuff."

She perked a brow at him. "You... _do_ understand I'm not going to leave you alone?"

What bothered the assassin was that she was taking in all this fairly well - too well, shall he say it - as if he was just common knowledge for her. He was a disfigured being with only half an organic body, the other half replaced with metal. At the same time, however, she noticed him about as normally as other people.

He had mixed feelings about this; he wasn't sure to be somewhat attracted to this element or repulsed by it.

More out of irritation than acceptance, he reluctantly consented and snatched a slice from the box.

* * *

"I'm not tired, Zoruru."

"You look exhausted," the cyborg said in disgust. "Forget about the assassin; you're going to die from lack of sleep. He won't even have to do his job."

Meruru fidgeted in utter discomfort. "I'm kind of already trying to do that," she muttered. "Forget about the assassin, I mean." She gazed to the left of her. "I wish I had my television here."

_Why, so you could put another one of those sticky notes on it too?_ Zoruru thought dryly.

"Oh!"

He looked at her.

She had brightened up somewhat. "I forgot I brought my radio with me! Hold on." She darted out of the bedroom, and then came back inside with her suitcase, dragging it slightly. Once set on the floor, she clicked it open and pulled out a tiny radio. "Here it is." She placed it on her bed and sat next to it, turning the dial until she found a station she recognized.

Sighing, she relaxed immensely, letting the soft music surround the room. Zoruru could see her eyes grow heavier, despite the fact that she was very obviously trying to stay awake.

"Look," he sighed, resting his organic hand against his forehead. "Would it make you feel better if I told you I'll stay up all night?"

"I don't want you to do that."

"And I want to keep you alive. Got that?"

Meruru looked at him briefly, before turning her attention back to her radio.

"Do you trust me?"

"...Yes?"

"Well, then?"

The look of utter despair expressed on her face was far from subdued. For a split second he actually felt sorry for her.

She shook her head. "I can't."

Now he was just annoyed.

The cyborg took a few steps toward her, grabbed her arm with his organic hand, and thrust her backwards against the bed.

She made a quiet, terrified grunt as the back of her head fell against the pillow, and she struggled to get up before she felt Zoruru push her back down.

"If I have to _force_ you to go to sleep, I will," he said venomously. "Now do me a favor and _close your eyes._"

He felt her heartbeat intensify under the palm of his hand where he was holding her down.

"Meruru," he repeated, though more in concerned sternness than irritation, "Close your eyes."

The pounding of her internal organ began to slow as he felt her muscles loosen and relax. He pulled his hand away as she jerked slightly and turned on the mattress.

"Zoruru?"

"What."

"Thank you." She sighed quietly. "But please. Don't ever do that again."

"Don't be stubborn, then," Zoruru chided, "It's my job to keep you alive." He noticed she was just laying on top of the bed. "You aren't going to go under the sheets?"

Meruru sat up and gave him a testy glance and huffed, though probably more out of tiredness than actual frustration, and pulled the blankets out to crawl under them.

* * *

"Good morning."

Zoruru started, looking up- or down, actually- at the green-eyed Keronian below him.

"Correction," the assassin noted, "'Good afternoon'." He jumped from his place on the ceiling and landed next to her as she began to do her bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Meruru said slowly. "A little better." She looked out the windowed doors of the balcony and then gazed at Zoruru. "Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Hm."

"You... do know that if you are, you're more than welcome to order something right now?"

"Yes, I know," Meruru replied, "It was just more out of curiosity." She gazed at him. "You've just been awake for so long." A small, dry smile played at the corners of her lips. "Weren't you bored?"

"I've been through worse things." He shrugged a shoulder.

Meruru quietly finished smoothing out the sheets and had begun to look at the mirror when she saw the little note stuck on to it.

Zoruru still wasn't sure what it was about, but he couldn't help but notice that her aura relaxed a little more at the sight of it.

He was going to go absolutely _insane_ if he didn't figure out just what those three little letters stood for...

* * *

"The victims' names were Takiki and Umimi respectively. It is likely that the reason for their murders were more from a job than personal. We find the man who hired him, and we may just be able to lure the assassin out from hiding."

"They were pretty well off, weren't they?" Taruru mused, looking at the photographs from their small mansion. "Maybe it was an inheritance issue."

"Maybe."

Garuru was getting a headache from looking at the bright frogging screens. He pinched where the bridge of his nose would otherwise be, and proceeded to massage his temples.

"There's only one person really connected to this couple, right?" Tororo asked, pulling up the name on the database. "Gurere. He was supposed to inherit everything when they died."

"Bring him in for questioning, then. We might as well start somewhere."

* * *

"I want to go outside."

The cyborg perked a brow at Meruru, who was staring longingly out the window.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

Good question.

They had been stuck in the same room for about five days now, and while the music was calming and sometimes able to easily pass the time, it was already growing all too tiring.

Yes, they were bored. Bored like a whale unable to move because it was accidentally washed ashore.

...Wait.

Zoruru took a deep breath. "Where would you go?"

Meruru shifted her legs. "I just would like to walk around." She gazed at him hopefully. "If I hid my insignias... do you think it would be enough to disguise myself?"

"Perhaps, but do you really want to take the risk?"

"I'll have you, though. Right?"

Zoruru twitched at this, trying very hard not to find the statement charming or touching.

He turned away. "Tch. I have to, so it's not like it's really much of a choice."

Meruru beamed. "Excellent. Thank you." She gave him a small salute and then retreated to her room.

"Hey, we hadn't reached a decision-" Zoruru began, but gave up. Why not. The air would do both of them good, and likely slow down their descent to insanity just yet.

He reached for his cape and wrapped it around himself, pulling the hood over his head to obscure his appearance. He would be doing his best to stay away from the public view anyway, but if any outside confrontation were to happen...

"I'm ready."

Zoruru glanced over his shoulder.

Meruru wore a casual light green sundress, a tiny darker green purse strapped over her shoulder and a plain brimmed straw hat tipped over her head. True to what she mentioned, it was enough to cover the insignias on her other hat and her belly. She examined him for a moment before she made a small smile. "You know..." she took a step toward him. "If we both walked together, it would look like we were both on a date or something."

Zoruru grimaced and took a step back. "I assure you there will be no assumptions of the sort. I'm just going to hide in the shadows while you walk around."

"That's too bad," Meruru mused, walking toward the door. "We would have made a good looking couple." She giggled as she heard Zoruru scoff before he vanished into the shadows.

* * *

Despite being so cautious and afraid back in the apartment, Meruru seemed to be doing fine on her own, walking unsuspiciously through the streets of the town of Flivera. She managed to respond cheerily to the passersby that said hi, though the Lance Corporal couldn't help but notice how she was still being very careful in averting some of the townspeople when it appeared they wanted to stop her to carry on a conversation.

Yes, she fit in nicely, but it was obvious that the prospect of a murderer going after her still weighed heavily on her mind.

Zoruru sighed heavily, shaking his head. He was glad she chose to blend in with the crowds- assassins tended to favor when their victims were alone most of the time. At least she had some cushion of protection around her besides himself.

He watched her purchase two ice cream cones. He knew by the way she awkwardly stood in the center of the sidewalk who that second cold treat was for.

"I'm here."

Meruru turned to him pleasantly, surprisingly unsurprised at his... surprise appearance. She handed him the ice cream. "There you are! I bought one for you."

He didn't take it. "Give it to someone else. I don't eat that crap."

The young Keronian woman, on the other hand, didn't waver. "Can you please just take the ice cream and enjoy it with me, Zoruru?"

The cyborg already knew it was futile to argue with her. It would just embarrass both of them, because she wasn't going to back down. Just like with the pizza, with the bed, the moldy cheese incident, and that one time with the carpet.

Zoruru snatched the stupid treat away and stared at it uncertainly.

"Let's sit down here," Meruru suggested, pointing at the small table set by the confection stand. With her free hand, she undid the umbrella and made it pop up, shading them from the sunlight. She cheerfully sat down and looked over at Zoruru, patiently waiting for him to follow suite.

He grunted with irritation but did as she requested, stiffly holding the ice cream away from his cape.

"I hope you like vanilla," she said timidly, "To be honest, I didn't really know what kind of flavor you wanted, so I took a gander."

He knew it was useless to point out he never _wanted_ any in the first place, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he just stared awkwardly at the cone.

"This really is like a first date, isn't it?"

Zoruru jumped, blinking up at the green-eyed female. He squinted his eye. "No. I thought I already made this clear to you-"

"I understand, but you can't help but get the feeling from the atmosphere, right?"

Again, he responded with a dry, "No." He struggled to handle the cone with his robotic hand to free his organic one without dripping any onto it. "I don't understand why you're trying to convince me. This isn't a date."

"I know," Meruru shrugged. "It's just that I've never been on a date before. It always sounded like fun to me."

"What, nobody ever asked you out before?"

At this, a slow, tense silence stung tightly around the two Keronians.

"..._Oh._" Zoruru cleared his throat and leaned back against his seat.

"Well!" Meruru recovered and laughed weakly, rubbing the back of her head with her hand, "I-I guess it's more my fault than anything, though. I mean, I've always been very attached to my work..."

"Hm."

"Zoruru... your... ice cream is turning into soup..."

"I know. _It's disgusting._"

* * *

Whenever Meruru stopped by the little shops, Zoruru would have to go inside with her, much to his reluctance.

At least they were interesting, to say the least.

Though, admittedly, it did get stupidly awkward when the two walked into an adult romance shop and the shopkeeper assumed they were a couple wanting to, uh... experiment.

Needless to say, Zoruru had grabbed Meruru's wrist and rushed both of them out, their faces flushed in red humiliation.

Regardless, a lot of the stores were traditional, and seeing as this planet was generally a melting pot of many different alien species, the cultures varied within every shop they visited. Dolls, clothes, food, jewelry.

To each their own.

Meruru was tempted to buy everything she liked from each one, but had to restrict herself. After all, they only had so much money, and this wasn't a vacation.

She supposed she would come back if she liked an item enough.

"What is she doing now?" Zoruru whispered to himself, frowning in distaste when Meruru stopped to watch a tiny band playing.

There were only three musicians, playing their own instrument. Interestingly enough, each musician deeply contrasted with the other. Whereas you could usually determine if a certain group were in a diverse nationality judging by their clothing, their mannerisms, and their appearance, it was clear to see that each musician came from a different culture. It was also present in their music, but... it was beautiful.

Like a mixture of different spices that originated from around the universe.

They were in a square that was large enough to comfortably house a group of people. However, they were playing music for only two or three other people, including Meruru.

_Why hasn't she left yet?_ Zoruru thought. He twitched when he saw her look around.

This was his cue to come to her.

"Yes?"

"Dance with me."

Zoruru took a step back. "No."

"It doesn't sound like fun to you?"

"No." He glanced over her shoulder to the band, which was still playing. "It doesn't even sound like it's music for dancing."

"So... if they played a different song, you would dance with me?" A glimmer of mischief sparked in Meruru's bright green eyes before she grinned and turned toward the musicians.

He already knew what she was going to do.

Before she could get the chance to come back to him when the now louder, upbeat and more enthusiastic music began to play, he quickly disappeared back to where he belonged- in obscurity.

Meruru didn't try to convince him to come back out. She already knew he wasn't, so she danced anyway. She danced alone, clapping her hands, spinning, letting herself go, laughing.

Zoruru watched on. She looked like such an idiot doing that by herself.

* * *

"I know I must've looked stupid, but I don't regret it."

"We're trying to remain inconspicuous, remember?"

"It was fun."

"I don't want you doing that again."

Meruru blinked at him, startled. "Why... not?"

"Didn't you hear what I just said? Inconspicuous. Dancing in the middle of the frogging town square is anything _but_ inconspicuous."

"...Oh. I understand."

No rebukes, just one of acceptance. He was relieved he didn't get an argument from her.

"Good."

The sun, which seemed to be the same as Pekopon's, had turned the streets into a golden hue, casting soft purple shadows and stretching them down the road. Breeze swept across their faces; they heard their respective clothing flap quietly in the wind.

"There was... a man."

Meruru turned and stared at him. Her heart began to flutter fearfully. "...What?"

"A man. He was... watching you."

She stared down at the ground.

"Was it... him?"

"No."

"Did he... look suspicious to you?"

"...No."

She took a deep breath. "Good." She brought her hands behind her back. "Why did that bother you, then?"

"You can never trust anyone, especially if you well know that your life may be at stake with every step you take." He looked straight ahead. "That's why I would rather us be more careful than simply catching attention. Is that clear?"

Meruru nodded. "Yes."

"Good."

"...Zoruru?"

"Yes."

"Do you know how to dance?"

He was slightly taken off guard by this question. He perked a brow at her. "Why?"

"Because... I just wondered if that was the reason why you didn't want to dance with me."

The cyborg scoffed. "No. I just didn't want to look like an idiot. You said it yourself; you looked ridiculous out there."

"Well, I was by myself," Meruru noted. "I believe it wouldn't have looked as ridiculous if I had a partner with me."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not."

"W.F.S."

Zoruru stopped, even though she went on. She gazed over her shoulder quizzically.

"What?"

"Those letters. What do they mean?"

"Dance with me," Meruru made a small grin, "And then I'll tell you." She spun back in the direction of the apartment and walked on, forcing Zoruru to trudge on behind her, exasperated that he was not allowed the insight of those three little letters.


End file.
